Loyalty Triumphant: OR, A POEM ON THE Numerous Loyal Addresses TO HIS MAJESTY.  
1 July .1681.  

ROuse up my Muse! For, How in such a Cause,  
Canst thou be Lazy, or admit a Pause?  
Why do not Words flow faster than thy Ink,  
Or forward Verse, scarce give thee leave to think?  
Thy Pen in such a Cause should Pregnant be,  
To writ thy Fellow Subjects Loyalty:  
Subjects that dare in spite of Faction show,  
How much they to the best of Princes owe;  
That dare in spite of all the politic Crew,  
Who would the People, and their KING subdue,  
Be truly Loyal, Honest, Just, and Good,  
Four things the Others never understood;  
Or if they ever did, have long forgot,  
Since first Sedition in their Hearts took Root.  
Their Leaders Soul, as well as Eyes, do squint;  
And could we search his Heart, the Devil's in't:  
He seems in show, as Loyal as the best;  
But a full Fury Lodges in his Breast.  
Ambition, that cursed Fiend that fain would Tread, 
Earl of Shaftsbury   
Once more upon his Royal Masters Head:  
Nor are his Followers behind in Zeal,  
T'advance the Good Did Cause, and Common-Weal.  
Reading the Votes of Parliament, I found  
The KING with Honest Men encompassed round,  
Who for the public Good, did Wisely Vote,  
That He for Tangier should not have a Groat;  
At His own Charge He must the War maintain,  
Or Tangier might be Lost, for He in vain,  
Assistance sought from them, unless He'd give  
In Pawn, for it, His own Prerogative;  
And against Natures, Laws, cease to Defend,  
An only Brother, and a Faithful Friend.  

He must Exclude him from the English Crown;  
That when Great York they once had Tumbled down,  
They might set up an Idol of their own:   
Whom if they cannot manage to their Wills,  
And make Him authorize unheard of ill:  

They'l without scruple hurl him head-long down,  
And Tearing from his Brows the tottered Crown;  
Each will be King, and set it on his own.   
Amongst Five Hundred Men, some few there were,  
That durst for Loyalty and Truth declare;  
That durst the KING's Prerogative Maintain,  
'Gainst Mighty Machivel, and all his Train:  
But once discovered, they like common Foes  
Or Spies, upon the Actions of the House,  
Are first made Kneel before the Bar, and then  
Shut from th'Assembly of those King-like Men.  
Our Loyallists such Principles despise,  
Are still Contriving how their King may rise,  
How they may make Him Powerful and Great,  
And in full Splendour keep his Royal Seat;  
Still Acting what their cheerful words express,  
Whilst each of them performs a whole Address.  
Oh! May they still persist in doing well,  
Till there be no Tongue left their Deeds to tell;  
That they who did in this their King Regard,  
May in the other World meet their Reward.   

The club of Royalists.  

COme Gangmede, and fill each Glass with Wine,  
Let each Muse Drink her share, then fill up mine:  
I with the Nine will revel all this Night,  
Till CHARLES his Health bring back the Morning Light.  
But hold a little, Whether am I gone?  
What need I Run so far as Helicon?  
Whilst Riding on each Beam, the Sun doth bear  
As Loyal Drinkers, as the Muses are:  
For they I fear have caught th'infection too,  
Since their own Sons bravely themselves undo:  
For one who formerly stood Candidate,  
For Wit and Sense, with Men of Highest Rate:  
Apostatizes from his former Acts,  
And from his own Cambyses 
Elkanah Settle who wrote it.  famed detracts.  
No more in Verse his Mighty Talent shows,  
But Libels Princes with malicious Prose. 
& the character of a popish successor   
This Man in cornhill if you chance to Meet;  
Or near the Middle of Threadneedle Street:  
Know 'tis to pay his Homage to the Sun,  
Or rather to the hot-brained Phaethon, 
Duke of Monmouth.   
Whom Ovid blames; but he does more commend,  
Advising strait the chariot to Ascend.  
What? Though the World once more were set on Fire,  
Shall his Young hero bawk his great Desire?  
No, let the Head strong Youth his Steeds drive on,  
Tread on his Fathers Counsels, and his Throne.  
I envy not those Happy Men that Ride  
With him in's Guilded Coach, my Humble Pride  
Desires no Courser, but a Hoggs-heads Back,  
where Mounted with a Bowl of Sparkling Sack.  
With Villers, Capel, Cooper, 


Duke Buckingham  
Earl of Essex  
Earl of Shaftsbury    and the rest,  
I'll Drink Confusion to each Caballist.  
Damn their Sun-Tavern clubs; but hold, my Rage  
Condemns the onely Honest Men of th' Age:  
The truest Patriots England' ere did breed,  
Who Viper like, on their own Mother feed;  
Tear up her Bowels with a base pretence,  
Of feigned Piety and Conscience:  
Good Gentlemen, How careful are they grown,  
To suppress Papists, and subvert the Throne?  
They for Religion strive, but Wise Men know,  
From whence their greatest Discontents do flow.  
Zeal for the Good Old Cause inflames their Breast,  
But the chief Fuell's, private Interest.     

London, Printed for William Grace, 1681.